


Parlor Games

by norgbelulah



Category: Justified
Genre: Bisexual Character, Booty Calls, Break Up, Fuckbuddies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norgbelulah/pseuds/norgbelulah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan's got a whole mansion to himself these days and he and David haven't done this in a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parlor Games

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thornfield_girl for beta work and the fabulous title.

David taps his foot, not nervously, not really, as he rings the bell at Monroe's front door.

It takes a minute, of unbroken foot tapping, for Raylan to answer the door. His brows shoot up. They haven't done this in a little while. "Vasquez," he says. He opens the door wide enough David can slip past him. "You just wanted to get me in better digs, huh?"

David smiles ruefully. "Not just for this. That place above the bar is downright sad, man."

Raylan's watching him like he's some kind of exotic bird, one that won't stay still and pretty for long. "It grows on you, you stick around long enough."l

David rolls his eyes. "You really want me to do that? I saw your social worker friend leave."

Raylan leads him into the house, directly to the kitchen where he gets a beer for them both from the giant stainless steel fridge. "You were gonna stake me out all night? See if she was staying?"

David makes a face as he reaches for the beer. "I was gonna give it another ten, fifteen minutes maybe."

"Right."

David suppresses a small, half-amused sigh. Raylan and his ever-hungry ego. 

"I thought you said last time was it," Raylan says, bottle near his lips. "You weren't gonna do it again."

David makes himself meet the challenge in Raylan's eyes. He wasn't hurt when David told him, "You can't call me every time a woman dumps your ass," which was what he really said before they fucked. He just wants David to be the one who says he needs it now.

"You're a real asshole, Raylan," David says, not entirely unpleasantly. "I'm surprised you don't get tired of hearing that."

Raylan's eyes are sort of twinkling. David doesn't really understand how someone can be so aggravatingly attractive. "I like to think of myself as a realist."

"Sure you do," David laughs.

"What are you here for, David?"

"Mostly your body," David replies shrugging. "And you're pretty quick. Some of these defense attorneys, they don't really give me the verbal challenge I've come to expect from my profession."

Raylan's smiling at him now, like he's on the weird side of funny, which David thinks is hilarious. This fucking place and these people. 

He takes a breath and says, "I thought I had a boyfriend. Turns out I had a closet case, all right?"

"So you're gonna go and screw your closeted bisexual fuck buddy instead?" Raylan doesn't seem confused about it. He probably just wants some acknowledgement of the severe hypocrisy that's happening right now.

"Yeah. Or do you not want to get laid tonight?"

"No, I do," Raylan says, like they both don't know already. "Which one of Monroe's many bedrooms would you like to defile?"

"Oh, the prettiest one, for sure," David replies.

Raylan twists his mouth a little, thinking. "You prefer a safari or a parlor?"

"How do you even know the word 'parlor'?"

Raylan doesn't answer. He just starts walking.

The room he leads David to isn't so much a parlor as a boudoir. The walls are lined with red paper, the thick kind that looks expensive and old, with ornately curling leaves or something printed in relief. The floor is carpeted, in a darker red, plush-looking material. The bed has black pillows and comforter on it, but the sheets themselves are crimson. This must be where Monroe fucked his mistress. 

"This is prettier than a safari?" David asks, his disbelief clear.

"I really hate thinkin' about killing shit while I'm fucking, okay?" Raylan says. 

They tend to get snippy with each other right before they start. One of them ultimately bristling enough he just goes for it. Well, that's been the pattern anyway, for all it's only been four times in the two years since Raylan's been in Lexington.

David doesn't bother asking about the other rooms. Raylan obviously doesn't think they're worth his time either. He suddenly feels vaguely lucky Raylan actually thinks _he's_ worth his time, then sort of hates himself for the thought. He begins to loosen his tie.

Raylan scoffs at him, setting his beer down on the dark wood bedside table, and reaching out, "What the hell are you doin'? Let me do that."

David had momentarily forgotten how much Raylan likes this part. The undressing. He wonders if he's the same way with women.

Raylan's hands are quick, unconsciously so, and careless, like he's taking off his own tie, but his eyes are darkening and watching David in a way that makes him shiver. Fuck.

"You want it quick? You wanna think about him and get out?" Raylan asks, not unkindly.

David shakes his head and leans in, too turned on from Raylan's hands and eyes to pretend he's not the one who wants it more. Raylan tastes like booze and beer and he doesn't kiss back right away, like he wasn't expecting David to do that. "No," David says. "I don't want anything. Just something. What do you want?"

Raylan blinks at him, pulling back slightly, but resting those hands on David's shoulders. "I want everything when it's been this long."

"You can't go out, pick up a boy sometime?" David asks, his voice going rough.

"That takes work," Raylan replies, laughing at himself and pulling his arms across David's back.

David laughs too. "God, you're the worst." They don't say much for a while after that.

Raylan removes David's shirt next, while David goes for his tie, which is difficult when they get their arms and hands tangled together. David settles for kissing him until Raylan's done with the rest of his clothes. His fingers are quick at David's belt and he's groaning by the time his pants pool at his feet. 

David remembers, seriously didn't forget, but now he's experiencing it anew, how tactile Raylan is when he's fucking. He loves touching everything. He wants to run his fingers over, under, in all the places, and then he wants to lick everything too. It drives David wild. He wants to do all of this before David can get his shit together enough to even think about continuing to undress him.

It makes him feel inadequate, but not so much he's going to force the issue. Not with Raylan looking up at him from down the bed as he's laving up David's erect penis, like he can't believe how great David tastes.

"Oh fuck."

A man could get used to this. It takes way too long for David to remind himself that's not something he can do. Can't. Won't. Shouldn't even think about. It's all pretty much the same.

"Where you wanderin'?" Raylan's slipped off him. He squeezes David's ass, quick, once, twice. "Come on now." He takes him in again. David puts his hands in Raylan's hair.

"Goddamn."

Raylan breathes like he wants to laugh. David does it for him, then comes spectacularly in his mouth.

Raylan swallows it all, making a face, but doing it probably for the sake of the sheets David can't imagine him wanting to wash. He climbs up David's naked body swiftly and kisses him. David can taste himself on Raylan's mouth as he's finally able to get some more work done on removing his shirt. Infuriatingly, Raylan decides to help, slipping it efficiently, then unbuckling his belt too.

"I can't spoil your fun, but you can spoil mine?" he mutters, no real bite to the criticism. He's still riding the just-come high and his smile is too wide for anything he says to be taken seriously. 

Raylan just smiles at him. "I forgot how much I like you fuck drunk."

David kisses him again.

"Hey, can I come on you?" Raylan's smiling. He purposefully waited to ask until now, because David is so far from saying, "no," to anything he'd ask for.

"What about the sheets?" he asks.

Raylan throws him a weird look. "Think I wasn't gonna wash those?" He's got himself in hand already. 

David supposes he was wrong about the swallowing. He grins. "Want help?"

Raylan grabs his hand and they bring him off together, fingers tangled. Raylan cries out, pretty loudly, and David makes some kind of noise when his come jets all over his chest and stomach. Raylan watches it happen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. 

When he's finished, he climbs off the bed almost immediately and goes right for his beer. He drinks it all thirstily and glances down at David, his smile loose and really fucking pretty. "You want another one? I gotta go get the lube anyway."

"What? He doesn't have any in here?" David's swiping at the quickly cooling come on him, uselessly with a sticky hand.

"Beer or lube?"

David gives him a look.

"Lube was in here. I moved it. Go take a shower, man. You want a beer or not?" Raylan's silently laughing at him. David knows he is. 

He climbs off the bed too and grabs Raylan, who clearly wasn't expecting it, by his hair. He gives him a messy kiss, heated, a hint of things to come. "Come join me in there," he says, lowering his eyelids to focus exclusively on Raylan's swollen lips. He flicks his eyes up. "Bring the beer--and the lube--and don't take too long."

Raylan smirks, though he's clearly pleased. "Yessir," he says, turning away.

David's only halfway through rinsing off, when Raylan comes in to the pink-as-hell bathroom adjoining the boudoir. He slips into the shower as he hands David a cold beer, but doesn't even let him get a sip before he's kissing him again. David goes with it for a minute, then pushes him away playfully, saying, "Come on. I'm thirsty."

Raylan moves down to his neck, slides his hands down to his hip and around his ass again, which he apparently really likes. David is flattered. He sets down his beer in a nook that seems to be specially designed for it and reaches for Raylan, pulling him back up to his lips. 

Then they just kind of make out for a while in the steadily falling water and rising steam. It is infinitely fun to make out with Raylan Givens. David has no idea why.

"Fuck me, David," Raylan moans after a while. David kisses him some more. "Come on," he adds. 

He thinks about Raylan using his first name. The way he's hard again, the way he's pulling on him, insistently and the catch in his throat. He wants it so bad.

"I really want you to fuck me," Raylan says.

Well, there you go.

"Not in the shower."

Raylan's out of there like a shot. He grabs a towel and his beer and the lube, looking back with a sort of, _aren't you coming?_ expression on his face. David follows, taking his own beer with him as he reaches for a second towel.

Raylan is busy stripping the bed of the comforter when David enters the room again.

"You can toss that on the floor," he says. "I don't give a damn I'll have to clean it up, just get over here."

David raises his brows. "The towel or the beer?"

Raylan's scowl comes so close to a pout, David almost laughs. "I think we should talk about someone else bein' the worst now."

David finishes drying himself off and lays the towel on a chair, carefully maneuvering himself to the opposite side of the bed, taking his time about it. 

Raylan’s mouth is hanging open. “You want me to tackle you? Is that it?” His cock is straining up to his stomach. 

David grants him mercy and climbs onto the bed. Raylan’s up on him in a second, kissing and biting. He’s really worked up. David turns him over. “I want you on your knees,” he says quietly. Raylan shivers and bites back a moan. 

David’s had enough of teasing, so he slicks his fingers up quick and works Raylan open while he pushes back on David’s fingers, readier than he has any right to be. Not for the first time, David wonders where the fuck he came from. He gets lost in that thought while he pulls Raylan apart, until he hears some low moans, close to pleading. Raylan’s hands are fisted in the sheets and his head his bowed low. “Come on, David,” he mumbles. “Come the fuck on.”

David leans forward, drawing his palm down the jutting bones of Raylan’s spine. Damn the boy is skinny as fuck. He stops at Raylan’s neck which stiffens momentarily then goes pliant, apparently game for whatever David is about to do. David curls his fingers in the hair at the back of Raylan’s head and pulls him back, while leaning forward to speak low in Raylan’s ear. “You’re clearly enjoying yourself.” He crooks his finger inside Raylan, who grunts and lets out a long, ragged breath in response. “Why don’t you feel like you can go out to get it?”

Raylan starts to laugh. “Gonna take all that closeted anger out on me now, Vasquez?” He wheezes. “Thought this wasn’t about your not-boyfriend.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea, son.”

David pulls his hand out, eliciting a low whine from Raylan, slicks himself up and presses in fast, all without letting go of Raylan’s hair. He keeps Raylan upright and close to him, breathing in his sweat, listening to the rising pitch of his moans, and letting his hands scrabble hard, digging in, at his thighs as he thrusts.

“Fuck you,” David mumbles and hates that Raylan knows it’s not about him, at least not all the way. “Fucking Givens, fucking cops,” he can’t shut himself up now. “Fucking Kentucky.”

“Go home then.” David can’t believe Raylan’s still talking.

“No,” he growls. He won’t be defeated. He’s got three more years at least before he can get himself a promotion somewhere, anywhere else. “Fuck off.” He reaches around and grabs at Raylan’s straining cock. Raylan hisses loudly and comes almost immediately. “Ha.” David breathes in his ear and Raylan pushes back, moving with him, until David comes too, choking and pressing his face into Raylan’s shoulder.

David falls back onto the bed as Raylan pulls away, leaning forward and down to the floor for his towel. He wipes himself off and watches David reach for his unfinished beer. His eyes look dark, pupils still dilated, and his mouth is thoughtful. David doesn’t really enjoy the scrutiny, but decides not to say anything and call further attention. He sort of just wants to get out of there.

David sets down his empty beer and holds a hand out for the towel Raylan’s clearly finished using. But Raylan just tilts his head at him slightly and doesn’t move. David shrugs and goes to get his own towel from the floor, when Raylan intercepts him, pressing his hand to David’s shoulder and pushing him back down on the bed. His expression is serious and his voice is soft when he says, “Let me do that.”

David bites his tongue to keep from saying a knee-jerk, “hell no.” They’re done. Why aren’t they done now? 

Raylan’s hands are sure and steady and David doesn’t move as he wipes him down. He might have thought Raylan’s careful movements showed some degree of indifference if it hadn’t been for the warm look that had risen in his eyes or the smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m sorry about that asshole,” Raylan says. He seems really sincere.

“That’s not what this is about.”

Raylan just looks at him and throws the towel back on the floor. He turns on the bed and lays down next to David. He drops his hand, casually, into David’s and interlaces their fingers. He draws his other hand up, turning more fully to him, and caresses David’s cheek, leaning in close to kiss him softly on the lips.

David pulls back, eyeing him. “That’s not what this is about either.” It hasn’t ever been about that.

“Why can’t it be?” Raylan asks. “David, I might be an asshole but I’m not as tone-deaf as you like to believe. You obviously need something, even if you didn’t come here for it. I want to give it to you.”

Then he pulls David close and David lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “I didn’t--” he starts, but Raylan hushes him, like you would a child. David doesn’t have the energy to bristle. Instead, he relaxes into Raylan’s embrace, letting his head lay back far enough he can eye Raylan, whose eyes are closed like they really are going to fall asleep like this.

“You’re freaking me out,” he says, very quietly.

“I’m not playing a trick on you,” Raylan mumbles, blinking his eyes open. “I’m tired and I want to go to sleep. You really don’t want this, you can leave.” He closes his eyes again.

David lets his gaze fall to Raylan’s bare shoulder, which is at his eye level. He thinks about his empty apartment. Grady had never slept over, and had been so uncomfortable the one time David said he couldn’t drive himself home from Grady’s. David was tired of pretending shit like that didn’t sting. And he was tired of telling himself he can’t have things he wants, can’t want things he needs.

He presses his forehead to Raylan’s shoulder and sighs. “You’re gonna be an asshole to me tomorrow,” he says. He needs a reminder.

“Maybe.” Raylan’s voice is heavy, like he’s already dreaming. 

David thinks he can live with that.


End file.
